Cut The Cord
by anilkex
Summary: The 4th in my "You Are The Third Winchester" Verse. This one is pre-series, and is a story of Kate visiting Sam at Stanford. Dean pops in, but this is more about Sam and Kate's relationship. Sam gets sick. Kate learns a lesson. Dean is snarky. T for Language.


_**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just play.**_

xxxxx

I arrived at Stanford about an hour ago. After checking the the campus map, I chose a spot at the far end of the quad. From here, I could monitor the two buildings that housed Sam's classes today without being seen. Students littered the field between them, lounging on the lawn despite the chill air. Some read, others visited with each other, and one couple was making out on a blanket.

I settled down with some coffee and my own reading material (Pagan Gods and How To Kill Them), and worked on my plan to "surprise the shit out of my brother".

Step One: Get to Stanford

Step Two: Improvise

I was on Step Two. I'm surprised I managed Step One.

A few weeks ago, Dad, Dean and I were on a simple salt and burn. Everything was going smoothly until the spirit knocked me down the basement stairs, and I dislocated my shoulder grabbing for the railing.

Dad was predictably concerned and irritated at the same time. The questions "Are you ok?" and "Did you drop the salt?" simultaneously on his lips. He popped my shoulder back in, and gave me a rough kiss on the forehead before setting fire to the corpse.

Seeing as how I couldn't lift a knife, let alone stab something, I was left to recuperate at Bobby's while Dad scheduled the next hunt.

I kept the injury from Sam because...well, it's Sam. I didn't need the long distance worry and fretting and lecturing. I had plenty within glaring distance.

Without warning, our calls and texts became short, almost abrupt. It happened for only a little over a week, but I knew something was going on - I just didn't know what. I began looking in the news for anything Supernatural around the Palo Alto area. Bobby said that was crossing the line...that I was overreacting. But when my brothers are involved, there is no line.

Bobby says that's a problem, too.

When Dad and Dean returned to pick me up, I broke the news that I was going to visit Sam. Dad took it really well, actually. The fight only lasted an hour.

"I don't get what the big deal is. I can't hunt anyway, and something's wrong with him. It sounds like a good time for me to visit," I told him after my third beer.

"You're eighteen. Do whatever the fuck you want," he griped, after his sixth beer.

By the time we finished a twelve-pack, I figured out his problem. "Dad...I'm just going for a visit. I'm not staying there. I'll be back."

Apparently, those were the magic words, because after a really big hug, he gave me four hundred dollars to spend on Sam. He then begged me to make sure Sam was okay, but told me he'd kill me if I disclosed his worry because really, he was still pissed that Sam left in the first place.

I had to bolster my way through more beer to get Dean's blessing. It's not that he didn't want me to go, he just a) wanted to come with, but wouldn't push his luck with Dad, and b) did not want me out of his sight since I "couldn't fucking manage to stab even a fresh vampire" due to my shoulder. It's hard to convince Drunk Dean that the odds of needing to stab something at Stanford in mid-December were pretty low.

He did give me two hundred dollars, though.

Bobby was much more straightforward and needed no extra beer, which was good, because at eleven bottles, I was close to my limit. He did, however, give me two hundred dollars to "buy Sam something nice for his locker".

God, I fucking love him.

xxxxx

I realized I hadn't checked in with Dean, so I got out my phone and dialed his number. He picked up after the second ring.

"You shoulda checked in an hour ago. You ok? How is he? Did you have any trouble getting there? Do you have enough money?"

"Whoa! Slow down, tiger. I'm fine….sorry I didn't call sooner...I haven't talked to him yet - he's in class. Money is fine. Pull your britches out of your ass and settle down."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, ok, sorry about that. Why haven't you seen him yet?"

"He's in class, Dean. There are only a few days until winter break, and I think he has a couple tests this week. I don't want to fuck with his schoolwork if I can help it."

I could see him nodding his head. "How's the shoulder?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's fine."

"Don't fucking roll your eyes at me. Did you take your pills? If it's hurting, you should take them. And don't lift anything heavy."

"Oh for..._Dean_. Boss me around when I get back, ok?"

He scoffed. "Shut up. I'll boss you around whenever I want. Big brother prerogative."

I laughed. "Yessir!"

"Okay okay, just….let me know how the kid's doing." _Tell him I love him and miss him...but don't you fucking dare use those words._

"I will. Be safe, ok? Tell Dad I love him." _I love you, too._

"Yeah. Call soon." _Love you more._

xxxxx

Early afternoon, I briefly saw Sam walking from one building to the other - it was hard to miss him. He towered above everyone, even though he walked slightly stooped over, face buried in a book, his old blue scarf wrapped around his neck.

It took a lot of self-control not to yell the second I saw him. I chided myself for being selfish. Just wait a little while longer.

By the time 'a little while longer' arrived, it was late afternoon, and I had a plan. As soon as Sam came out of his final class, I took out my phone and dialed his number. Grinning, I watched him answer.

"Hey...what's up?" He sounded tired.

"Nothing much, just checking in with you. How's it going?"

"Ok...you?" This was why I came. Two word responses were not typical Sam. Something was up.

"I'm good. I just have one question, then I'll get out of your hair."

"Okay...shoot."

"So, apparently, Palo Alto is experiencing unusually cold weather. Why the fuck aren't you wearing a jacket?"

Then I hung up, and watched the show.

Sam spun around frantically, eyes searching wildly, until he spotted me waving, leaning against my big tree. He froze for a second, two seconds, then ran.

I laughed and let him come all the way across the field to me (I _was_ injured...). He swept me up and pulled me to him in a massive bear hug. The pressure on my shoulder was excruciating, but I gritted my teeth and tried to focus on the fact that Sam..._Sam_...was here with me after four months of only phone calls and texting.

He buried his face in my hair exclaiming, "Holy shit..._holy fucking shit_...how...when did...holy _shit…_"

I couldn't help but laugh and hug him back. "Fuck, I missed you."

He let go and stepped back, allowing me to take a good look at him. Shit - I think he grew more...maybe an inch. It was going to be harder to reach up and mess with his hair, which was now long and floppy on top - it looked good on him. His whole face was smiling, and I raised up on my toes so I could tuck stray strands of hair behind his ear. He looked pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes, but otherwise seemed okay. I reached up and cupped his cheek in my palm, thinking how good it was to see him, and that he probably needed some sleep.

Sam closed his eyes and sighed, then furrowed his brow and stared at me.

"Why are you using your left arm?"

_Well….shit._

xxxxx

After I let Dean know everything was fine, Sam took me to his dorm. His roommate had left early for vacation, so we had the whole closet to ourselves. We sat on his bed, heads together, talking, just like when we were kids. Fuck...just like we did four months ago.

I confessed to hiding the shoulder mess. He huffed and examined it himself - insisting that whiskey shots were not a substitute for medical attention. Technically, it was bourbon, but I didn't bother correcting him. He talked about classes and his workload, and the different people he'd met.

My stomach growled. "Hey...are you hungry? I'm starving…"

Sam checked his watch. "Shit...dinner's over. We'll have to...get something out."

I looked at him in amusement. "I didn't plan on eating in your dorm cafeteria. I'm taking you out for a nice dinner, big brother."

Sam hesitated. "I don't have - "

"It's covered, Sam. Do you think I came unprepared? Everyone wanted me to take care of you while I was here. Somehow, I ended up with a ton of money."

Sam looked at me, confused.

I poked him. "Bobby wants me to buy you something awesome for your locker."

Sam threw me a look, then burst out laughing. I joined him, thinking how much I've missed that laugh.

We ate at a small restaurant in town. Sam said he'd never eaten there, but heard the food was good. It wasn't expensive, not that it mattered, and the food was fantastic. I made a note to get Sam a gift card before leaving. After dessert, we wandered around, Sam playing tour guide on the walk home.

It was late by the time we got back, and Sam was yawning as he unlocked his door.

"I think it's someone's bedtime…"

Sam smiled and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah...I'm sorry…"

I closed the door behind us and took Sam's arm. "Why the hell are you apologizing? I surprised you, remember? C'mon...let's get you in bed…" The words slipped out automatically. We'd been back together only a few hours and I was already mothering him. It's not that I didn't remember he'd been on his own for four months...I guess old habits die hard.

Then again, he wasn't arguing.

He just nodded and changed into his pajamas. I followed suit, and made a big show of tucking him in. He grinned like an idiot the whole time. The bed was painfully small for my giant of a brother, even when curled on his side.

I was about to get into his roommate's bed when he scooted until his back hit the wall, and gestured for me to get in. I raised an eyebrow at him.

_Seriously?_

He blinked.

"Dude. We're not eight."

He switched on the puppy eyes.

_Goddammit..._

It took me a whole five seconds before I caved.

I always. Fucking. Caved.

Sharing a bed with Sam wasn't a big deal - we shared a bed our whole lives. Motels didn't come with four beds and cheap apartments didn't have three bedrooms. Sharing a cot-sized bed with a giant-sized Sam, however, _was_ a big deal.

Still.

I crawled under the covers. In order for us to _barely_ fit, we both had to lay on our sides.

"This won't work all night, you know."

Sam didn't answer. He just closed his eyes, and flung his arm across me. I pushed yet another clump of hair off his forehead.

_What's going on with you?_

"When do you have to leave?" he whispered.

"Whenever I want."

"Hmmm…"

"That ok?" I asked.

He nodded, and smiled.

xxxxx

The next couple days passed uneventfully. I attended Sam's larger lectures with him, kicking his ass at hangman when a droning professor threatened to put him to sleep. When I couldn't sneak into a class, I did research for Dad, taking advantage of Stanford's huge library system.

I took Sam to Target and bought him something from Bobby - he chose a poster outlining how to survive a zombie attack. We filled an hour by crossing off the strategies we knew don't work and arguing over the ones we weren't sure about.

On the night before his winter break began, I met his friends. Exams and work schedules didn't permit the crossover sooner, and I think Sam just wanted a couple days by ourselves to let my presence sink in. We met at the student center after Sam's last test. There were six of them, all excited to be on vacation and relieved that the pressure of the week was past.

They weren't like Sam's various friends in high school. I wasn't sure if that was because they were older, the ivy league influence, or if it was an indication that Sam had changed during the short time he was gone. Only one, some chick named Marie, set off my asshole radar. She had this condescending air about her, as if every ounce of her screamed, "I go to Stanford! Act accordingly!"

We gathered in the corner of the student lounge on leather couches and comfy armchairs, sipping fancy coffee that Dean would insist contained estrogen. I placed myself in the corner of a couch whose back was against the wall. Seriously...old habits die hard - I needed to see the entire room at all times in case Dean was right, and I did need to stab something with the six-inch blade I stashed in my boot.

Sam sat next to me, making small talk and trying to be engaged. He kept rubbing his eyes and massaging the back of his neck.

Everyone was sharing their vacation plans. The Bitch announced a planned ski trip in Colorado with her family before celebrating the holidays at their Florida condo. Christmas had become just another day to hunt for our family, although punctuated by a trip to Bobby's for heavily spiked eggnog, gas station presents (Winchester tradition) and a competition to see how drunk we could get yet still recite an exorcism.

Suddenly Marie turned to me and asked, "So, Kate, what are your plans for the holidays? Will you guys do anything special? Sam is so tight-lipped about his family, it's nice to be able to put some pieces in that enigma he wears."

She smiled as she fucking sipped her coffee, but it never reached her eyes. She was testing me - attempting to get information while trying to decide what role I really played in Sam's life. "He's been so happy to have you here." As if she even knew.

Some guy, Mike, on her left, piped in, "This is the most spark we've seen in Winchester for a while, now. Maybe you should move here."

Everyone laughed, and I know they were just making a general observation. But I was trained to observe more closely, and I saw Sam stiffen slightly as his eyes focused on the floor. His leg started bouncing and I knew that last comment struck a nerve.

All eyes, except Sam's, were on me, expecting a flood of personal information to be shared in my attempt to "get in good" with the college kids.

How little they knew us.

I placed my coffee on the table and smiled sweetly. "We usually spend the holidays on a family friend's estate in South Dakota. We follow a strict gift-giving tradition, and then...well, this will sound corny...but we recite poetry together."

Sam choked on his coffee.

The others sat and processed what I said, not sure if I was dishing bullshit or reality.

Dean already had plans for Christmas, but I wasn't sharing that with Sam just yet. So instead, I said, "I'm not sure what we'll do this year." I glanced at Sam. "Right now, I think it's enough that we're just together."

My tone indicated that I wasn't going to divulge any more information, so they turned back to each other and chatted.

Sam gave me an amused look before turning and stifling a sneeze into his wrist. He stayed still, hand in front of his face, until he sneezed again. He quietly picked up a napkin and wiped at his nose.

It was easier to get a closer look at Sam when he wasn't aware of what I was doing. I could clearly see how tired he looked, that he was rubbing his eyes more than I realized. No one seemed to notice that he sneezed or looked tired, and I guess there's no reason to.

But I noticed.

I didn't want to do or say too much in front of his friends. Obviously they knew very little about me and my relationship with Sam, and it's _really_ hard to explain how we got the way we are. Being thrown together for years with only each other and Dean for company means...well...a not so normal relationship. It works for us, and we have no problem with it, but we never know how others will react, so we always tuned _us_ down when outside our family.

But right now, I couldn't help myself. I put my hand on his back and rubbed in slow circles, pressing firmly enough to contact the muscles I knew were knotted underneath his skin. I figured this was inconspicuous enough and not socially improper. What I didn't figure on, was Sam turning and curling against me, sighing into my shoulder.

The group conversation paused for the barest of moments before picking up again. Sam's display of affection was something they'd never witnessed before, and I could sense their initial stunned reactions, not to mention the curiosity.

Sam sneezed again, this time softly into my shirt, and I giggled when he dramatically rubbed his nose on my shoulder. I heard a gasp and saw Marie staring at us, a look of disgust on her face. I narrowed my eyes and tossed a glare at her that clearly told her to fuck off. She looked taken aback, and turned back to her friends.

I was about to suggest to Sam that we go back to his dorm when Mike announced that another mutual friend was hosting a party that night, and how awesome it would be if we all went and had a few drinks. I hesitated, not knowing what Sam would want to do.

He nudged me. "Hey...wanna go for a little bit?" He spoke softly, into my ear.

I was surprised he wanted to go. "You sure you're not embarrassed by me yet?"

Sam poked me in my side, causing me to yelp. Everyone turned to stare and Sam murmured, "I am now, but we can still go."

xxxxx

The party was held in a huge house that this guy's parents were renting for his time at college. It was sad to think that this beautiful home was about to be trashed by vacation hungry college kids. There was the stereotypical keg and a ridiculous amount of hard liquor. The guy hired a DJ and people were dancing and mingling everywhere.

I actually had a really good time. Sam introduced me to a bunch of different people. Most were unmemorable, except some really cute guy named Gene and a nice girl named Jess. Sam was much more lively after a few beers than he was after a large coffee. We danced, drank, visited, drank more, and did I mention that we drank?

The whole time we were there, Sam never left my side. He always had an arm casually flung across my shoulders, wrapped me from behind and rested his chin on my head, or stood close enough so that he could casually run his hand along my back. Since Sam was establishing the rules - these were his friends after all - I relaxed into his touch and just enjoyed being with him again.

The more drunk we became, the more I realized how much I'd missed him, and I had a few pangs of anxiety at the thought of having to eventually leave him. Naturally this led me to drink more.

At some point, one of us decided we should leave. I had absolutely no idea what impression we left on the other partygoers - I could barely remember getting back to the dorm. It was okay, though, because we were laughing and goofing around like little kids (if little kids got so fucking drunk that they couldn't walk in straight lines) and having a blast.

We somehow managed to get back to his room and crawl into our beds. We alternated between giggling and shushing each other. We had just calmed down, and I was starting to think that passing out would probably be a great idea, when Sam sat up.

"Oh My God….Kate...KATE! Let's call Dean! I miss him!"

I groaned. I was trashed, but I still knew that was an incredibly bad idea. "Sam...that's….that's not a good thing to do."

"Nonononononono...c'mon…" He appeared next to me and was pulling on my arm, whining.

"Christ...Okay...okay...hold on...where's...where's the phone thing?" He crawled into my bed and sat on my legs.

I fumbled with the phone and dialed Dean's number I tossed the phone at Sam. "Your idea...you talk to him."

"Mmmmmm'kay. I really miss him HEY DEAN!...Yes! What? No! Wait...I mean yes...yes, we totally are…I dunno how much...Who? Oh yeah, she's right here hold on….Kate...say hi to Dean."

He held the phone to my face. "Hi to Dean!"

We burst into giggles.

"What? Pfffffft...no! We're fine. Better than fine. We're grrrrrreat!" I laughed out loud, which only egged Sam on.

Sam mouthed, "This is Dean..." And then he ran his hand down his face, and rolled his eyes. Our reaction to the almost perfect Dean impression made finishing the conversation impossible. Eventually Dean figured out that there was no real talking to be done, so he hung up. I figured I was getting a phone call tomorrow.

It took a long time to settle down. Sam decided his bed was too far away so he pushed himself between me and the wall.

"Mmmm...remember how this was a bad idea?" He responded by coughing and laying down on my pillow.

My mind floated between feeling incredibly content and incredibly sad at the thought of leaving. I lay my head on his shoulder.

The familiar arms were around me and I sighed into his neck. "I miss you all the time."

Sam huffed into my hair. "Nahhhh….it's nice and quiet with me gone."

"I didn't say it wasn't quiet." That earned me a poke in my side. "I said I miss you. All the time."

His thumb was pacing back and forth on my arm - something Sam does when he knows I'm upset. "I miss you, too. But hey...you have Dean…"

"Can't get _rid_ of Dean…" We both giggled. "Nono...I know he's there. But he's not you."

Sam whispered, "We're both still getting used to it."

The thumb trick was working too well - my brain was attending to the movement, and it was lulling me to sleep. Sam pulled me closer and pressed a kiss to my head.

I lay still, listening to his breathing. "Hmm...you're getting sick."

"What?"

I pulled back and looked at him closely. "I said you're getting sick - you're breathing funny."

Sam scoffed. "You're drunk."

I scoffed in return. "_You're_ drunk."

He nodded emphatically. _Yessssss…._

"Aaaand sick."

He paused, then shook his head emphatically. _Nooooooo…._

I looked at him closely. "That's what this was...you weren't feeling well and you...tried to hide it from me."

Sam frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar." I lay back down. "Jesus Christ...I thought you were having a crisis and you were just sick."

"Hmm….is that why you came?"

I thumped my hand on his chest. "Yes, moron. I thought something major was going on - you were so fucking weird on the phone...pissing me off. I was...worried."

"I'm...sorry?"

I huffed. " 'S'okay." Then I passed out.

xxxxx

The next day, we didn't get out of bed except to go to the bathroom (and _holy shit,brush our teeth_) until mid-afternoon. The good news, was that we weren't terribly hungover. The bad news, was that Sam congested and with an achy feeling he couldn't shake. We were also reminded how awful it was to share a dorm bed.

Sam admitted that he'd had a headache for a couple weeks and was feeling run down. He wasn't trying to be devious, he just didn't want me to worry. Ha.

When we finally got up, it was to get solid food, cold medicine and tissues. On the walk home, Sam had to break into one of the boxes of Kleenex when his nose started to run. We stopped at the same restaurant from my first night there, and ordered food to go. My phone rang after we placed our order.

_Dean_.

Remembering the phone call from the night before, Sam ducked into the bathroom, leaving me to deal with our brother's ridicule.

_Chicken shit._

Sam just waved as the door shut behind him.

"Hi there…"

"Well well well...having a good time, are we?"

"Oh, shut up." I smiled. "We were at a party...and we may have...indulged a bit…"

Dean laughed, loud and long. "That is an understatement. You were both fucking wasted."

"Yeah...yeah we totally were."

"So how are you feeling today?" I could hear him grinning.

"Pretty good, actually. We slept in, minor headache, but otherwise good. Sam's got a cold or something, though, so we're out getting some medicine and stuff."

Dean's voice lost its humor. "He ok?"

"Yeah..I mean, he's at the beginning of being sick, you know? He's starting to feel shitty, and he'll feel worse later. But I'm sure it's just a cold."

"Okay...What about everything else?"

I sighed. "That was it, apparently. He's felt crappy for a while, and didn't say anything because he didn't want us to worry. Instead, Bobby was...fucking...right...and I overreacted and ran here thinking he was ready to drop out or something."

Dean snorted. "Yeah well, you never know with him. Drama queen and all."

"I just kinda feel stupid, you know? He has a fucking _cold_, and I acted like…"

"Like it was the apocalypse?"

I sighed. "Yeah. I guess...I'm still not used to this whole being apart thing."

"Hey...none of us are. How's he doing otherwise?"

"He's good...classes are good, friends seem nice, he's doing...well. He's doing really well."

I could sense Dean smiling. "Yeah...we raised him right. We still on for Christmas?"

"Hell yes...he'll love it."

"Good - I was afraid that some emo drama shit was going to ruin it. Okay...take it easy and lemme know how he's doing...unless you're too drunk to dial and report."

I could hear him snickering, and I rolled my eyes.

"What did I tell you about rolling your eyes at me?"

"Christ. I'm hanging up now."

He laughed more. "Yeah yeah, talk to you soon, Drunko."

As I hung up, Sam came out of the bathroom, Kleenex in hand. "Was he mad?"

Neither of us are kids anymore, but we still acted as if Dean was our dad. I don't think it'll matter how old we are - he'll always be our dad.

"Nah...mostly giving us shit. How're you holding up?"

Sam coughed into his arm. "Ready to go to bed. I'm such a pussy."

"I know, right? Hey...they just called our number - let's get outta here."

When we finished eating, we turned on the TV and settled into his bed, still exhausted from last night's festivities. After a bit, Sam drifted onto my shoulder, and I could feel some heat radiating off him. I brushed my fingers across his forehead.

"Hey Sam...guess what time it is?"

"Hmmm?"

"Fever time!"

He groaned.

"Nono - it's very exciting. You get to take new pills and be pampered more."

He burrowed his face in my neck and mumbled, "I don't want fever time. This is supposed to be visit time."

I chuckled "It's ok...we don't have anywhere to be right now."

Sam just sighed.

I got out of bed and grabbed the Tylenol from his desk. I pressed some pills into his hand and pushed a bottle of water at him. He sat up long enough to swallow the pills and sip the water.

He scrubbed his eyes and stared blankly before sneezing into the crook of his arm. I handed him a box of tissues and he took a few, pressing them to his face. I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling how warm he really was.

"Okay...why don't you get some sleep?"

"I don't want to sleep yet...just laying here is good."

"Okay...I'll be here if you need anything." I moved to my own bed when Sam grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his bed. I sighed.

"Sam...we don't fit here…"

He hugged my arm. "Just sit here with me. You came all this way and I'm fucking sick so just...humor me. Please..."

This is the shit that got me here in the first place. I have no restraint when it comes to them.

I climbed in next to him, and he snuggled close, a smile on his lips. I pushed him a little. "Hey...at least look miserable."

He nodded, and pulled the covers over his shoulders, almost covering his head. He sneezed against me (thank you, Sam), and brought Kleenex into his makeshift SamKate Cave.

Sam cleared his throat and spoke tentatively, "I'm sorry you came all this way for nothing."

I nudged him. "What does that even mean?"

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "You thought there was some big thing going on, and there's nothing, just me and a stupid cold."

I breathed a laugh. "Sam...it doesn't matter. I feel more stupid that I overreacted and ran out here...like...you needed to be fixed or something. I know you don't need that anymore."

"Wait...who said I don't need that? Just because I'm here, doesn't mean I don't need you anymore. I just think you don't need the hassle of worrying about me like before."

"Dude...I worried about you for different reasons...mostly because you were picking fights with Dad _all the fucking time_. I was afraid of what he'd do to you."

Sam chuckled. "Yeah...I was an ass."

"Little bit. But Dad was a bigger ass." We sat in silence for a minute, Sam leaning on me, playing with my hair. "Besides that….the way we lived...we all hovered over each other and were overprotective all the time because we had to be. Thing is….I still live like that. It's just hard to separate you from it. We don't have to worry about you _in that way_ while you're here. Dean and I...we're still adjusting, I guess."

Sam propped himself up on an elbow and studied me. "I'm still getting used to you guys not being around all the time. I don't know if I'll ever really be used to it. It's getting a little easier, but fuck...I miss you guys like crazy." His voice broke a little on the last word, and he lay back down, tugging me close.

"Fuck, Sam, we miss you, too."

xxxxx

The next day, my phone buzzed, waking me up. I checked the screen - it was Dean.

I extracted myself from Sam and went downstairs to let him in. Dean was squinting through the glass doors by the time I got there, and his face brightened when he saw me.

"Hey…" I opened the door and let him in. "You're early."

"I was too excited to see you again. Sue me. I gotta take a mother of a piss - get me to a bathroom, for fuck's sake."

I took Dean upstairs. We went inside and found Sam sitting up in bed.

Dean's face lit up as soon as he saw Sam. "Hey, Sammy!" He dropped his bag on the floor and rushed to give Sam a quick hug. I leaned against the doorway and just watched. Sam returned Dean's hug fiercely,

"Hey…" he croaked, then cleared his throat. "What're you doing here? I'm sorry...I'm kind of a mess."

Dean reached out and ruffled his hair. "Don't worry about it, princess. Just wanted to see you - sick or not - makes no difference. First things first - bathroom. _Please_."

I gave Dean directions and he took off, practically running. Sam coughed and gave me a confused look. "Seriously, why is he here?"

I just shrugged.

I reached out and palmed his forehead and neck. "Fuck, Sam, you feel warmer." I grabbed the Tylenol and was unscrewing the cap when Dean returned, looking much happier.

"God, that felt like heaven."

I rolled my eyes and Dean sat down next to Sam, placing a palm on his forehead. Sam almost moved away, but something in Dean's look held him still.

"You're sporting some heat. How're you feeling?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not a kid, Dean."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Is that what I said? I don't think that's what I said. I believe I asked how you were feeling, because you're fever seems high."

I sat on the far side of the bed, by Sam's feet, still holding the medicine. Chastised, he lowered his head and tucked his feet against me. "I feel like shit," he admitted quietly.

"I figured." He ruffled Sam's hair again. "Getting moppy up there…"

Sam swatted Dean's hand away. "Kate likes it."

Dean eyed me, "Of course she does. It's all girly."

I stuck out my tongue and squeezed Sam's leg. Sam rolled his eyes and smacked Dean in the chest. "It's good to see you, man."

"Good to see you, too. So. What is there to do around here when you're sick?"

xxxxx

At Sam's insistence, we bundled him up and took Dean around campus. Sam showed him where his classes were, where he's hung out, and one of the huge libraries ("You would have this on your tour, Bookworm"). Dean wanted to see the sorority houses and the bars.

After lunch, we headed back to the dorm. Sam was completely wiped out. With Dean here, I backed off and let him handle the mothering. "C'mon, Sammy, time for a nap."

"Jesus, Dean, I'm fine." I poked him. Sam winked and grinned at me. _He likes it when I play hard to get._

"You're totally not fine," Dean retorted as we reached Sam's room. He ushered Sam inside and pushed him towards his bed. "Take the Nyquil - it'll knock you out for a bit."

Sam nodded and pulled the covers over himself. Dean sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder and made sure Sam drank all the green liquid.

I shook my head. And here I was worrying about being too much of a mother hen.

I grabbed a book and moved towards the other bed. Sam sneezed and as I turned to look at him, he had the puppy eyes out.

Three of us on that bed was too much, puppy eyes or not. I waved my hand at him dismissively. "Play with Dean. I'll be right here."

Dean snorted and closed his eyes, arms folded across his chest. Sam lay down and it wasn't long before he fell asleep.

Sam woke from the nap still groggy from the Nyquil.

He stretched, not wanting to completely wake up yet and hearing Dean and Kate talking closeby. He hadn't heard that sound in such a long time, that he just lay still and listened, enjoying the comfort it provided.

"Stop being a bitch, Dean. It's way better than staying here and sleeping on that fucking bed. Don't change plans midstream."

" _*sigh*_ I know...that goddamn thing broke my ass, I swear to God, and all I did was sit on it. Okay...you ready to get going? … Good. I'll get the car and meet you out front."

Sam heard a zipper and the door clicking shut. Did he hear right? They were leaving? Seriously? The day before Christmas Eve?

Someone placed a hand on his forehead - it felt cool and he couldn't help but moan and turn into it. There was a soft chuckle, then Kate spoke, "Hey sleepy - time to get up. We're going for a drive."

Sam blinked his eyes open. Wait...he's going with them? The room was dim, but Sam still had trouble adjusting to the light. He coughed and tried to sit up. Everything spun and Kate reached out to grab him.

"Whoa, there. C'mere...lean on me for a sec…" Sam pressed his face into Kate's neck. He missed this - knowing she was right there when he needed her. He knew how that sounded, but he didn't care. With the life they led, they needed that love, that reassurance. It's what kept them going.

"Mmmmm-okay...fuck - " he sneezed onto her neck, making her laugh. " Oh shit...sorry…" He felt her kiss his forehead.

"It's okay...I don't care. You know that. Now come on - time to get bundled up and into the car."

"Where're we goin'?" Sam sat up straighter, pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead. He felt so crappy - his fever must be higher. "Dad find us a new hunt?"

He felt Kate hesitate before answering. "Something like that. It's a surprise, Sam. Dean's getting the car. Let's get your shoes on, 'kay?"

Sam furrowed his brow at her. "Stop talking to me like I'm a kid. I can get my own shoes on."

Kate gave Sam an amused look. "I know you can. You can even comb your own hair and wipe your own nose….usually..." She handed him a tissue. "But right now, you're not batting a thousand, so let me help you."

Sam blew his nose and threw the used tissue across the room. "Fine. But I don't wanna hunt when I'm sick. Don't wanna get you killed."

Kate smiled at him and placed her hand against his cheek. It felt so cool against his hot skin. He closed his eyes for a second and smiled back. She laughed. "Wow, you are soooo stoned right now. If Dean weren't waiting downstairs, I'd get video of this. Come on - shoes..."

She helped him into his shoes as he huffed like a child, then bundled him in his coat and scarf. He sniffed and sat on the bed watching her move around the room, checking to make sure they had everything. She tossed the bottle of Nyquil into her bag and grabbed the Kleenex box and a pillow.

"Okay..I think we're good. Let's go."

Sam blinked and stood up, leaning on Kate for support. They made it downstairs and through the lobby without incident, albeit slowly. Sam's balance was off and he was having a hard time walking in a straight line. Fucking Nyquil. He was confused and disoriented and he just wanted to lay down.

As they approached the entrance, Sam saw the Impala sitting outside the front door. Dean was standing next to it checking his phone. As the doors shut behind them, Dean looked up and grinned. "Look who's walking. Let's go."

He opened the front door and Kate got in, Sam blinked. He didn't want to sit in the back alone, but it looked like that's where he had to go. He moved towards the rear door, and Dean put his hand on Sam's arm. "Hold on - you're in the front, too, Sicko."

Dean gently squeezed his arm. "Get in."

Sam peeked in the car, and Kate was sitting there - waiting for him - smiling, her hand out ready to pull him inside. He sighed in relief and sat down. As Dean went to the driver's side, Kate helped him buckle his seatbelt and propped the pillow against the window. "Just sleep, Sam. We'll be there before you know it."

But where are we going? Sam wanted to ask, but he was too tired. His head hurt, his throat hurt, his body hurt. Kate's hand was in his hair, and he sighed, scooting down in the seat, and burrowing into his scarf. He held onto her jacket and was asleep before Dean pulled away from the curb.

Sam drifted in and out of sleep. Every time he woke, he heard the familiar banter of his siblings. It was as if he woke just to make sure they were still there - that this wasn't a dream. He spent his entire childhood in the Impala with Dean and Kate. In many ways, this was his home.

"Are you sure this is the one?"

"Seriously? You're doubting me?"

"Shut up. I just want to make sure. Knowing you, it'd be one that had fricking porn already pre-loaded."

Dean chuckled. "Pre-loaded….OW! Not while I'm driving!."

"Whatever. You can handle more than that while driving."

"True that. Anyways, Bobby's picking it up, so it'll be all ready by the time we get there."

"Perfect."

"So...still feel dumb for coming out here?"

"Nah...Well..maybe a little."

Dean laughed. "Don't be. Obviously he needed you here, it just wasn't an emergency like you thought."

"Yeah."

"Or…."

"Or what?"

"Or are you disappointed that it wasn't some big thing that needed your attention?"

Kate huffed. "I don't know what the hell you mean."

Dean laughed again. "It's okay."

Kate sounded resigned. "No, it's not. Every time he calls or I call...I keep waiting for him to tell me that he doesn't want to be here and he wants to come home. I mean, I don't want him to leave Stanford - he loves it here and he deserves to be here. I guess it's a matter of getting adjusted to him not needing us like he used to. Need to...fucking...cut the cord."

"Don't be stupid. He still needs us. It's just different, now."

"Hmmmm...yeah."

"...What was that for?"

"Because you're an awesome dad."

"Oh. Well you're an awesome mom, so we're even."

"Hey...how do we even fit up here anymore?"

"We don't. But that's ok - this is a special occasion."

They laughed and Sam went back to sleep.

A while later the Impala stopped and a car door opened. Sam felt Kate's hand on his shoulder. "Hey….Sam...wake up...we're here!"

Sam cracked his eyes open and looked around him. Snow was falling and they were parked in front of a cabin. "Where are we?" His voice was gravely and congested. He tried to clear his throat, but ended up coughing instead.

Kate ran her hand up and down his back, murmuring soothing sounds into his ear. "We're at a cabin near Portland. Come on - let's get inside."

"Gotta go to the bathroom…." Sam mumbled, rubbing his eyes, and feeling very much like an eight year old.

Kate laughed and ruffled his hair. "I bet you do. You slept the whole way."

The passenger door opened and Dean poked his head inside. "Ready?"

Sam nodded, unfolding his body from the car and standing up. Dean had his hand on Sam's arm to help steady him, and together they made their way inside. Dean was grinning like mad and Kate was practically bouncing. Sam, still waking up, was growing more curious and more aware of needing to piss.

Dean opened the door, and Sam stepped inside. He froze, his mouth dropping open, as he found himself staring at Dad and Bobby, standing in front of a small Christmas tree, grinning back at him.

"Hey son…" Dad walked over and pulled Sam into a hug. Sam hesitated only a second before hugging his dad back, the bathroom forgotten.

"Dad…? B-Bobby? What the hell?"

Bobby walked over, and gave Sam a quick, gruff hug. "Merry Christmas, kid. Thought you could use a little vacation...figured we hadn't seen you in a while, so…" He shrugged and stepped back, retrieving the beer he set down when Sam entered.

"Oh, hell, gimmie one of those…" Dean dropped the bags in a corner and made a beeline for the cooler.

Sam turned to Kate, shock clear on his face. She just grinned at him. "Surprise - Merry Christmas, college boy."

Sam discovered that Dean arranged everything. He's still not sure how he convinced Dad to stop hunting for a couple days, but he did, and that's all that mattered. Just having them all together was such a shock that Sam actually splashed cold water on his face and pinched his arm while in the bathroom just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

The living room area had a fireplace that was crackling happily and two large sofas arranged at an angle so both would benefit from the heat. Everyone was sitting, drinking beer and talking quietly when Sam approached. Dean rose to meet him.

"Find the bathroom okay?"

Sam glared at him and rolled his eyes. Dean chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, okay, dumb question. Come on...sit down."

Sam eyed the couches - he wasn't sure where to sit. Dean took his arm and guided him to a spot between him and Kate. Sam sent him a grateful look - he wasn't sure he if should sit with Dad or what.

"How're you feeling, Sam?" John asked. "Kate said you're under the weather."

Sam shot a quick look at his sister who just smiled encouragingly at him. _Just talk to him...it's ok._

He licked his lips and coughed lightly. "Yeah...just a bad head cold - no big deal." He leaned back against the couch, not sure what else to say. The last time he saw his dad wasn't the most pleasant experience, and now they're sitting in some Martha Stewart scenery chit-chatting.

John nodded and took a drink from his bottle of beer.

Kate piped up, "So how did the hunt go?"

That's all it took, really, and the conversation flowed naturally from there. Sam sighed - only hunting could make his family relax and just be together. Dean nudged him, and handed over a plastic cup of green goo. "Drink it all," he whispered, gesturing with his hand.

Sam grudgingly drank it, making a face at the vile taste. He handed the cup back to Dean who nodded approvingly.

Kate placed a pillow on her legs and casually looped her arm around Sam's shoulders, gently pulling him down onto her lap. He went easily, almost sighing when his head hit the pillow.

By Christmas morning, Sam was feeling a lot better. His fever had broken and the ache in his body had lessened. John managed to stay until early morning, but then had to leave to help Caleb with a poltergeist. Bobby didn't go with him, instead making his famous chili in the small kitchen of the cabin.

Sam was shocked to receive a new laptop as his gift - it was a top of the line laptop, complete with wireless access that Dean assured him "was totally covered, dude, so stop worrying about it."

They spent the day watching ridiculous videos online and just laughing together. By late evening, Dean got a text from John with coordinates. To everyone's amazement, instead of replying, he shut off his phone.

"What? It's Christmas."

=end=


End file.
